


Prayers Answered

by spookyawards_archivist



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Angst, Episode: s03e10 731, F/M, Plot What Plot, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-12-31
Updated: 2005-12-31
Packaged: 2019-04-28 04:40:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14441580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spookyawards_archivist/pseuds/spookyawards_archivist
Summary: SUMMARY:    This is my entry into the Fandomonium First-Time-Smutfic Challenge; my episode:  731.





	Prayers Answered

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Spooky Awards](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Spooky_Awards), and was moved to the AO3 as part of the Open Doors project in 2018. I tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are the creator and would like to claim this work, please contact me using the e-mail address on [SpookyAwards' collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/spookyawards/profile).
> 
>  **Author's notes:** DISCLAIMER: They certainly aren't mine; if they were, they'd be having more fun, and I wouldn't have to save  
>  up for a new car! Mulder, Scully, Skinner and the rest belong to FOX Networks and 1013; I'm just borrowing them for a little fun and games.I promise I'll bring them back on time and unharmed. and they won't remember a thing.

  
Author's notes: DISCLAIMER: They certainly aren't mine; if they were, they'd be having more fun, and I wouldn't have to save  
up for a new car! Mulder, Scully, Skinner and the rest belong to FOX Networks and 1013; I'm just borrowing them for a little fun and games.I promise I'll bring them back on time and unharmed. and they won't remember a thing.  


* * *

Des Moines, Iowa  
Pennick Memorial Hospital  
The corridor outside Surgical Recovery 

The trip had been horrendous, having to change planes in Chicago, which she always hated, and then being stuck in the plane, on the ground, for more than an hour waiting out a thunderstorm. She had tried to nap, but her usual tension about flying was magnified beyond all logic by her terror. 

She had spent six frantic hours trying to locate her partner after their cell phone connection had been broken. She had even had the Gunmen trying to locate a satellite photo of a small explosion... But all had been fruitless, and the last few hours had been spent sitting paralyzed in her car, trying to wrap her mind around the idea that Fox Mulder was missing in action and that she might never find him... that she had just inherited the doom that is the X Files, bound by obligation to continue his search for his sister and the conspirators who had taken Samantha and her brother. He had done it for years alone; surely she could do it. 

She had gone to Our Lady Help of Christians Church, down the street from the Gunmen's lair, and prayed tearfully, desperately, that somehow Mulder was alive and that she could somehow find him. 

She still felt guilty about how relieved she had been when her cell phone had sounded and AD Skinner's calm baritone had informed her that her partner was alive and hospitalized in Des Moines. She had fled the church and gone to the airport without bothering to stop at her home to pack. 

She stopped and waited for the clacking of her bootheels on the linoleum tile floor to stop echoing down the corridor. There was a woman dressed as a doctor emerging from the door she had been about to open. She held out her hand. 

"Dr Maryanski? I'm Special Agent Dana Scully of the FBI," she announced herself briskly, hoping she sounded more confident than she felt. "I'm Agent Mulder's partner; I hold his medical POA and proxy. What's his current status?" 

Doctor Marisa Maryanski studied the shorter woman quickly. Perfect hair and makeup, black power suit with the utterly jock addition of thick-soled Doc Marten-style boots that added more height to the alreadydizzyingly -high heel. An FBI agent and a qualified pathologist, this was an educated and authoritative woman with a capacity for violence that the doctor recognized. She had seen similar attitudes in senior police officers; not the administrators, but the field officers. 

"Agent Scully. Pleased to meet you; I was told when you called, but I was elbow-deep in your partner at the time." The deliberate doctor-to-doctor crudity failed to elicit the merest flicker of response from Scully, and the doctor gave up. "At the moment, he's resting comfortably and he's being moved to his room momentarily. Would you like to have a seat?" She waved toward the waiting room a few steps down the hall. "We can talk more comfortably." 

"I'd like to see my partner, doctor," Scully insisted politely. "He was captured and being held hostage on board a rail car set with explosives. He'd just managed to escape when we lost contact. That was over fifteen hours ago. And he'd been in the field on a hot pursuit for several days." 

Dr Maryanski yielded; in her fifteen years of practice, she had learned to pick her battles. "Of course. Ordinarily we would not be able to allow even Next of Kin back here, but your MD is good for a few special privileges." 

Scully nodded. "Thank you, Dr Maryanski." 

Surgical Recovery was not a quiet place. Monitors were chirping and alarms were buzzing on a patient a few beds down from where Mulder lay. Scully homed in on her partner, totally forgetting about the escorting physician. 

He had been cleaned up meticulously, she noticed, but nothing could hide the contusions and lacerations on his face. She tore her eyes away from his visible injuries to check the monitor's readouts of his vital signs. 

All were within normal limits. She turned to face Maryanski. 

"The entire reason he was in surgery," Maryanski began answering while Scully was still opening her mouth to demand those answers, "was to repair internal injuries. He was assaulted on at least three separate occasions: first by garrotte, then by cosh, and then, while he was down and probably unconscious, he was punched and kicked several times in the body. But if there was any sort of explosion in his vicinity, none of his injuries reflect it." 

"There's something for which to be grateful," Scully muttered. "What did you have to repair?" 

"His left kidney is badly bruised; there was some uncontrolled bleeding. We used a laproscopic laser; the abdominal incision is only three-quarters of an inch long. Once we got that bleeding stopped, he stabilized very nicely; I don't think the concussion is very bad at all. He'll need to be monitored, but these days that's not really enough to keep him here. Banning complications I anticipate releasing him in the morning with instructions to see his personal physician in three days." 

Scully allowed herself a slight smile. "He'll be thrilled. He hates hospitals." 

Maryanski lifted an eyebrow. "Given the summary of his medical history we got when we called to verify his insurance, that's surprising." 

Scully shook her head. "Not really. He just doesn't always take the possible consequences into consideration before he jumps on top of moving trains. He considers risk to himself the least important factor." 

Maryanski nodded slowly. "I've known a few like that. And they aren't always male." 

Scully shrugged. "Our personal safety is a consideration; it just isn't always the prime consideration. We have sworn to serve the public good, just as you have. If Ebola broke out here, you wouldn't stampede for the door. You'd stay and work. That's your calling. This is ours." 

"I could never do your job," Maryanski sighed, shaking her head. 

Scully flashed her a real smile as she watched the staff preparing to move Mulder out of the room. "And I could not do yours." 

"I'll see you later, Agent Scully. If you need me for anything, I can be paged." 

"Thank you, Dr Maryanski." Scully followed her partner as he was wheeled out of recovery and into the hallway. She never noticed that the surgeon left. 

As the orderlies pushed him into a private room two floors up, Scully saw him begin to stir. By the time all the monitoring leads were reconnected and he had been neatly tucked in, he was blinking dazedly, trying to focus on his surroundings. 

She put her hand over his just below the IV. "Mulder." 

His restlessness ceased at once. He turned his head toward her and tried to focus on her. 

"Sssh..." The word slurred when he tried to say her name. 

She put a finger on his lips to silence him. "I'm here, Mulder. Just sleep. I'm staying." 

"'Kay..." he breathed. His eyes had never opened entirely and in moments he was asleep. She knew he would not waken for some time. She settled down to wait. 

* * *

He first became aware of how much his head hurt. Then, as more awareness filtered in, it became a contest to see whether his head, his throat or his belly hurt more. 

He moaned and the sound startled him. 

"Mulder? Are you awake?" 

That was Scully's familiar voice and for a moment he basked in it: whatever else happened, he could always depend on her to show up and take charge. 

"Scully?" He thought his voice sounded awfully rusty and for a moment he wondered wildly how long he had been unconscious. 

"Of course it's me." 

He could hear her smile and returned it without thinking. 

"Don't try anything too strenuous," she warned him. "Let's start with opening your eyes." 

That seemed reasonable. He blinked until he could tell where she was, but he could not truly focus on her. He frowned, annoyed. 

"You've got a concussion, Mulder," she always knew what to say. "Is your vision blurry?" 

"Yeah. Can't focus." 

"Don't force it. Just relax." 

"Easy for you to say." 

"Yes, it is." 

She was grinning again; he could hear it. "What happened?" he grumbled. 

"I'm not at all sure, Mulder," she admitted. "The last I heard, I was trying to help you with the exit pass code to that rail car." 

"1-1-3-2-3-1..." he repeated the code as the memory slowly became clear. "I remember that. Then what?" 

"I don't know; you stopped answering me. From available evidence...? You were slugged; hence the concussion. The doctor believes you were hit several more times and kicked, as well." 

"What about the bomb?" 

She shrugged helplessly. "I don't know. It doesn't seem to make sense for someone to assault you this severely and then carry you to safety and call 911 to get you necessary medical attention." 

"He wouldn't've..." Mulder slurred. 

"Who?" 

"The guy in the car guarding the alien." 

Scully let that slide. "What wouldn't he have done? Hit you or saved you?" 

"Saved me. He tried to strangle me earlier." 

"That's how you got the wire cut on your neck, then." 

"Yeah." He let his eyes fall shut against the too-bright lights. 

"Tired?" 

"Yeah. 'N' groggy." 

"That's the concussion," she assured him. "Catch a few zees while you can." 

"You wakin' me up every hour for neuro checks?" 

"You betcha." 

"Peachy..." he muttered as he settled back. 

* * *

By dinnertime he felt much better and was sitting up in bed. He managed to eat the uninspiring meal, and decided that hospital menus were improving. 

"Improving how, Mulder?" 

"Well, their menu-writing skills, anyway. They called that entree 'chicken paprikash' and they spelled everything right." 

She chuckled. "How's your head?" 

He made a face. "It still aches, but it doesn't slosh like a half-full bucket anymore." 

"That's good. It was the concussion that most worried me." 

His fingers went to his throat, where butterfly-style bandages kept the nasty cut from the garrotte closed. 

"Don't touch that, Mulder." She did not have to say why; she knew that he knew. 

"I was actually going to say," he let his hand drop, "that it was the abdominal surgery that bothers me the most. I got beat up; what was that for?" 

"Your left kidney was badly bruised and bleeding; they went in to stop the hemorrhaging." 

"Hemorrhage is an ugly word..." He glanced up at the IV stand, where a unit of whole blood had lately drained into his arm. 

"Yes, it is." 

"So when do I get out of here?" 

"How about now, since you haven't comedown with the creeping crud or hatched an alien out of your chest," came a jocular voice from the doorway. 

Mulder shuddered at the image; Scully went utterly white. "What do you mean?!" she demanded, rising to stand between her partner and the stranger, her right hand hidden behind her back on the grip of her **GLOCK.**

Dr Kresko, the floor resident, was somewhat taken aback by the depth of their reaction. "Mean? I don't mean anything... it was a joke! There was an Alien film festival on last night! Jeez...!" 

Gradually, Mulder and Scully let themselves relax. 

"You aren't funny," Mulder assured him. "Not even a little bit." 

"I gathered that. Time to check your progress. If you'll excuse us for a few minutes, miss...?" 

Mulder looked at her and their eyes met. She grinned faintly. "Sure. I'm going for coffee. See you in a few, Mulder." 

"Bring me some!" 

"In your dreams!" 

She shut the door behind her, but Mulder noted that the door didn't latch and he didn't hear her boots clattering down the hallway. She was lurking outside the door in case he needed her. He relaxed and watched the doctor, who had two fingers on his wrist and was actually counting his pulse. 

"Doesn't the telemetry tell you my pulse rate?" 

Kresko shrugged. "Machines malfunction." 

"No! Say it ain't so!" 

The doctor chuckled. "Your pulse is elevated. Did that alien joke scare you that much? Your girlfriend went as white as a sheet." 

"Not /that/ alien," Mulder grumbled. 

"Is the fourth movie that much scarier?" 

"No. It's just a bad docudrama about several of our cases," Mulder snorted in disgust. 

Dr Kresko stopped and stared at him. "What?" 

"Never mind," Mulder shook his head. "You wouldn't believe me, anyway." 

"Try me." 

Mulder studied him for a moment. "Check my blood tests," he said finally. "You'll find enough weirdness to keep you busy for a few days." 

"Why? Are you an alien?" 

Mulder snorted. "No. But I've encountered a few and they've done things to me. I can't donate blood; there's no telling what would happen to the poor sucker who got it." 

The door opened and Scully came back inside. "Mulder, stop trying to scare him. Your blood's weird enough all by itself." 

Dr Kresko glanced at her. "You believe him?" 

"Believe him? I'm the one who rescued him both times he was taken. I'm the one who told him. He's a psychologist, not an MD. He can't read lab results." 

"Your blood's weirder than mine," Mulder pointed out mildly, hiding the pain her words had sparked. 

"They held me longer," she said coolly, not looking at him but studying the doctor. 

Mulder felt a chill all the way to his bones. "Not because I wasn't trying to find you!" he protested. 

Scully heard the distress in his voice, now, and moved to his side. Her hand came down, featherlight, on his. He stilled, staring at her. 

"I know," she said very quietly. "I know." 

Dr Kresko cleared his throat nervously, embarrassed by the intimacy of the moment he was witnessing. 

The FBI agents turned to look at him and he was even more embarrassed because they were not. 

"Look, all your tests looked good, Agent Mulder. Barring unforeseen circumstances, I believe we will be discharging you. How does that sound to you? 

"Terrific," Mulder nodded and turned his hand over so he could take hold of Scully's. "Thank you, Dr Kresko." 

The medic hurried out. 

The agents turned to face one another. 

"Mulder?" Scully could feel something in the room but she did not know what it was. 

"Scully, I hunted for you every waking moment all the while you were gone!" 

"I know you did." Her voice was soft. "Skinner explained, let me read some of the files. You weren't much use to anyone, were you? Not even yourself." 

"I was a mess," he agreed, letting his attention drop to their hands, still clinging to one another. "I felt like an amputee, Scully. Half my brain was missing and I couldn't think." 

Scully took a deep breath. "We can't have this discussion here, Mulder. We're spending the night in a hotel down the street and we're flying out tomorrow. Wait till we get to the room." 

"All right." He was not happy, but neither was he surprised. Scully did all she could to avoid dramatic emotion, and he knew he was on the brink of tears... 

A few minutes later he was wondering what god of bureaucracy had suddenly decided to smile on him. The discharge planner was there only moments later with paperwork for him to sign, including the follow-up instructions, for which he had to sign a receipt. Scully took charge of all the paperwork, left him privacy to get dressed and then walked alongside his wheelchair as the orderly pushed him down the hall. 

He had been dreading an uncomfortable silence, but she was not quiet. Scully chatted amiably with the orderly and included him politely, though he answered briefly and did not really participate. 

As soon as they were in the car the curtain of silence he had been dreading fell. He stared out the window, trying not to look at her. 

Did she really feel that way? That she had rescued him twice was certainly the truth but her tone had applied censure; she had been able to rescue him but he had been unable to even find her. That was a slam he could barely face. He had been hagridden by guilt for months and now she had slapped him with the tacit accusation that his guilt was appropriate; that she held him responsible, if not for her abduction itself, but for the duration of it and all that she had suffered during it. 

He shuddered at the horror of it. He honestly did not know what had been done to her, but the effect had been nightmarish. Since it was unlikely that she could have been kept sedated for the entire three months, at least part of her memory loss had to be traumatic amnesia. 

The thought of what that trauma might have entailed had given him nightmares for months. The memory of it was enough to shake him. 

He was not surprised to learn as they walked through the lobby that she had checked in here when she had first arrived, before she had come to find him in the hospital. He was equally unsurprised to find that she had not left the hospital once. 

She walked with him as he slow-footed his way down the carpeted hallway and she opened the door for him. 

The hotel was a Residence Inn and this was a two bedroom suite with a great room in between. He made a beeline for the couch. Scully made one for the shared bathroom. 

He made himself comfortable, toed off his running shoes and put his feet up on the coffee table, positioning himself so he could watch the bathroom door. When she emerged she had changed her clothes and was wearing soft pale green sweats. When she met his unwavering gaze her step faltered. 

"Scully..." 

It was only two syllables, but there was a thousand words'-worth of pleading in his tone. 

She nodded, understanding. "What would you have done if I hadn't been returned, Mulder?" she asked softly, continuing their conversation right where they had left off. 

"I would never have given up," he said quietly. "You know me that well." 

She nodded again. "I know you that well." She gnawed on her lip for a moment, and he realized that she had washed off all her makeup. "Skinner told me he was surprised you survived that California debacle." 

Mulder shrugged. "It was a disaster from the get-go," he agreed. He avoided her eyes, not wanting to admit everything that had happened. "That girl committed suicide and I couldn't stop her." 

"I know you tried," she assured him. "Were you planning on surviving?" 

He blinked at her, startled. "What? I wasn't trying to die, Scully. I was trying to save Kristen and capture the vampires and I failed miserably." 

She met his gaze unblinkingly. "That's not what I asked." 

He looked away, clearly unsettled. "I wasn't planning on dying," he insisted. "But I was depressed as hell; I wasn't sleeping, nothing was funny, I was obsessing over every tiny bit of physical evidence I had that you had ever been real." 

Horror began to bubble up in her throat. "What did you do?" 

"I stole the tape from your answering machine from Evidence and had a copy made; then I sneaked it back inside. Every night I'd lie on the couch and listen to it over and over and over. 

"Why would you do that?" Now she was nonplussed. 

"At first it was listening for clues; the tiniest of hints. But..." 

"Go on, Mulder. It's well-past time we talked about this." 

He looked away from her but listened as she came over and sat beside him on the couch. 

"There weren't any clues on the tape, Scully. Just your voice, screaming my name, screaming for help and not getting it. Sometimes I can still hear you in my nightmares." 

She slid closer, reached out and captured his hand in hers. "I'm here and I'm not leaving." 

"You weren't planning on leaving that time, either," he pointed out. 

She frowned at the hollow tone of his voice. Her fingers began to gently massage his. "It's not your fault, Mulder." 

"If you weren't my partner, they wouldn't've ever taken you." 

She nodded slowly. "True enough. But you didn't choose me, Mulder. We're both being manipulated and managed. We don't know how or by whom, but I know it isn't you." 

"But..." 

"But nothing, Mulder. Blevins sent me to the X Files. You weren't consulted and you had no control. If anyone pasted a _take me!_ sign on my ass it was Blevins." 

"Or Cancerman." He knew Cancerman sat in on her debriefings, she had never been told not to keep him updated on those meetings so she always had. 

"Or whoever gives them their orders," she pointed out. 

"It's still..." 

"... not your fault!" she snapped, cutting him off. "You know I don't believe in aliens, Mulder, but there clearly is a conspiracy of some kind going on and it is our duty as federal law enforcement officers to investigate." 

"You don't have the kind of personal investment in it that I do, Scully," he whispered, afraid his voice would crack. 

"How can you say that?" she growled at him. "They took three months of my life, they took my health, my sense of personal security and any hope I ever had a of a normal life! Not to mention manipulating circumstances to repeatedly put us both, but especially you, in mortal danger!" 

"I don't care about me..." 

"Well, I do"! she snarled. 

He stared at her, stunned. 

She suddenly realized what she had said and blushed a deep deep red. 

"Scully...?" He was feeling his way through this emotional minefield blindfolded and he had no idea where he was. 

"While you were sleeping off the chicken paprikash I started reevaluating my career as a field agent, Mulder. Do you realize that since we've been partnered I've been taken prisoner and held against my will three times, knocked unconscious once, assaulted seven times and exposed to infectious disease at least twice?! You've had it even worse: you've been taken and held eight times, assaulted more than that and exposed to the same infection?" 

He swallowed hard. "You want to transfer to White Collar Crime? Or back to Quantico? I'll sign it if you really want to go..." 

But she was shaking her head in the negative and he discovered he could breathe after all. 

"No, Mulder. That's not what I want. I was just marveling at our luck." 

"Luck?" He was totally at sea again. 

"Mulder, I saved you from Ellens AFB. You saved me from Eugene Tooms. I backed you up against the Jersey Devil; you believed me in the Arctic. I took care of you after the fire in Boston; you took care of me after you got me safely away from The Kindred up in Steveston. I'm seeing a pattern here; how about you?" 

He nodded warily. "We're partners, Scully. That's what partners are supposed to do." 

She smiled faintly and cocked her head as she studied his expression. "I suspect it's more than that, Mulder. Much more." 

Now he was less upset but still wary. "Much more what?" he risked the question. 

She chuckled and slid closer, till they were side-by-side, touching from hip to knee. Their hands, his right and her left, still tightly clasped, were now resting on his thigh. 

"Mulder, I'm not very good at the usual girl-stuff. I learned hair and makeup by taking classes at a cosmetology school. It was a professional skill I needed to cultivate, so I invested a summer in it. I've rarely dated since high school and I've only had four significant adult relationships." 

His heart lurched in his chest. "D- Do you think you might be open to a fifth?" he asked, incredulous that she had turned the conversation this way. 

"Mulder, as near as I can tell, I'm in that fifth relationship. I have companionship, assistance, loyalty, affection, fellowship, deep and abiding, unshakeable trust... everything but the physical side is already here. And I've never been happier in my life." 

He ignored the latent explosive she had left in that statement and around it. "Happy? Are you really? After all the pain and agony I've put you through?!" 

"You didn't put me through it, Mulder," she said softly, "you got me through it. It's a consequences of our jobs and the work we do. But without the intensity of what we have endured together, we might not be where we are, now." 

Mulder swallowed hard; he could barely bring himself to believe what she had said but he was desperate to do so. But the question begged to be stated out loud and finally he yielded to it. 

"Where are we, Scully?" 

Her eyes dropped and he suspected she was staring at their joined hands. He could not take his eyes off her face. 

"Mulder, I spent sixteen hours not knowing if you were alive or dead, with no idea where to even start looking for you. It was a nightmare that I don't ever want to relive." 

"I'd rather not, either, you know," he said softly. "I was worried about never seeing you again." 

She looked up long enough to flash him a quick grin, but then looked down again. "More than just that," she continued, her voice so low that he had to strain to hear her. "I was nearly overcome with regrets." 

His mouth opened but he could not seem to inhale properly. "Regrets?" he whispered. 

"Regret that we'd never had a conversation like this one," she explained. "Regret that I'd never told you how much you mean to me. Regret that we had so rarely touched..." 

She let that last word trail away. 

Greatly daring, he pulled his hand free of hers and substituted the other while he draped his arm over her shoulders. He caught his breath in stunned amazement when she snuggled closer. 

"Scully... I don't want to jump to any hasty conclusions..." 

She chuckled. "I'm not trying to deceive, inveigle or obfuscate," she teased. "I can't imagine my life without you in a primary role in it. No one else even comes close to comparing to you." 

"Wow." He was awestruck. "I only hoped you might feel that way someday, Scully. I never dreamed I actually would get to hear you say it." 

She let her head rest against his shoulder. "Should I infer from that that you don't object to me feeling this way or expressing myself this way?" 

"Object? Scully, you're fulfilling fantasies that I've been hiding from you for years." 

She looked up at him then, startled. "Years? Years, Mulder?" 

He nodded. "Years." 

"Why didn't you ever say anything?" 

He shrugged helplessly without letting go of her. "There really isn't a good time for a department head to approach the only agent he actually supervises and confess mad and passionate love. I'm Spooky Mulder, the FBI's most unwanted, Scully. I got the basement office because most people were glad to see me shut away down there. I've been waiting for you to get a better offer and move on ever since we got back from Bellefleur." 

"Why would you expect me to leave you? Have I shown any sign of it?" 

He shook his head. "No, you haven't. But everyone leaves me, Scully. No one ever stays. It's not always bad, God knows... but it's inevitable. I tried not to think about what I'd do when you left." 

"Why? What would you do?" 

"Nothing." 

She frowned. "Nothing?" 

"Nothing." He shrugged. "Nothing would matter. I can't imagine doing anything." 

She used her hand in his as a fulcrum and swung her leg over to sit astride his thighs, facing him, forcing him to look at her. When he had felt her start to move he had released his hold on her and let both arms fall away, freeing her from all restraint. She reached down for his hands, placed them on her own hips, then put her own hands on his shoulders. She deliberately settled herself snugly against him, belly to belly, and leaned in until they were nearly nose to nose. She stopped when his eyes started to cross trying to keep her in focus. 

"I'm not leaving you. And you, by God, are not leaving me. Never again, Mulder. I can't handle the ditching, I can't handle the not knowing. You take me with you. That's an order." 

Slowly he smiled at her. "An order?" 

Scully grinned. "Yep. Whattaya say to that, Mr Special Agent Department Head?" 

He sighed contentedly. "There are no words to describe the depths of your insubordination, Agent Scully." 

Her grin widened. 

He leaned in and kissed her hard. 

It was so sudden that she froze in shock for one stunned moment, then she wrapped her arms tightly around him and kissed him back. They broke apart long minutes later, gasping for air. She looked into his eyes and saw their usual bright hazel had been replaced by the black dilation of lust. Where their bodies were pressed together she could smell her own arousal and feel his. 

Her fingers slid down his shoulders, down his chest, and she began to unbutton his shirt. 

He gasped sharply at the first touch of her fingers and she hesitated. 

His fingers walked up her back into her hair, then emerged to caress the line of her jaw. He kissed her there, small kisses along her jaw that moved up to her ear and lingered there, teasing, and then moved behind her ear, licking and nibbling very lightly. 

She let her head fall back and he took the hint, trailing down the column of her throat, feeling her pulse pounding against his tongue as he followed her carotid. His hands slide down her back again: one hand flattened itself against her back to support her and the other slid inside her sweatshirt to cup her nearer breast, thumbing the nipple till it peaked. 

When his mouth engulfed her breast she gasped. She had no idea when or how he had disposed of her bra... no, wait, she had not been wearing one. She was shivering in earnest, now, and realized that he had tossed her fleece top aside so he could work on both breasts unimpeded. 

When his teeth scraped gently across her aureole and nipped gently at her nipple she felt her body respond of its own accord, her pelvis rocking toward him. 

Her hands abandoned his hair, where she had laced her fingers to keep him targeted. Now she went for his shirt again, trying to unbutton it by touch. Finally, impatient, she ripped it open and heard the buttons go pinging across the room. 

He chuckled and let go of her breast. "In a hurry?" he murmured. 

Her fingers went to his nipples, then, rubbing and scratching lightly while she stretched upward to capture his mouth with her own. 

This time she kissed him, hard and demanding, sucking on his tongue until he crushed her body against his own. Her hands went down again, popped the button at his waistband and shoved the zipper down. Her hands went in underneath the elastic waistband of his shorts and shoved both boxers and slacks down together. He lifted his hips to make it easier for her and then kicked the garments off. 

Naked but for his now-open shirt, Mulder stood up cradling her upright in his arms. "Tell me you're not playing with me, Scully," he begged, his voice gone breathless. "Tell me this is what you want." 

"This is what I demand," she growled, wrapping her still-fleece-covered legs around his waist. "We're bonded, Mulder. There isn't anyone else in the world for me, or for you. And I want all of you." 

He pulled her more tightly against his body and carried her into the nearer bedroom. She rocked her hips against him until he pulled himself free by main strength. She would have protested, but his hands were on her, pulling the fleece leggings off her as he laid her back on the bed. 

For a moment they stared at one another. 

He was tall on his knees above her, straight and strong, washboard abs above thick dark hair that drew her eyes away from his. She had seen him naked but never before erect. She moaned and shivered at the thought of what was about to finally happen. 

She lay on her back, her hair fanned out to frame her face. Her body was flushed and trembling with arousal, and he was sure he had never seen anyone so beautiful in his life. Her feet were flat on the mattress, her knees raised and spread wide, welcoming him. 

They both felt the tension building. Once taken, this step could never be retracted, never be undone. The status quo could never be restored. 

She held out her arms to him and he let himself fall into them, catching himself before he flattened her beneath his greater weight. 

He had landed, by design, with his face between her breasts. He resumed his adorations there until she was moaning and writhing beneath him. 

"Quit teasing, Mulder...!" she gasped. 

"I've never been more serious in my life," he protested. But he trailed kisses down her body, then, pausing at her navel until she squeaked, then progressing further south until he could bury his face in auburn curls. 

"All this and a real Irish redhead," he sighed happily. 

She rocked her pelvis forward a bit, nudging his chin with her mons. 

"Never let it be said that I refused to give the lady what she wanted," he murmured. 

"Then quit talking," she growled. She gasped, then, as his tongue began its dance. Her head fell back, and her hands reached for the headboard. She tightened her grip there till her knuckles were white. 

She had never been touched like this before. Certainly previous lovers had indulged her orally, but only as a duty, to be fair. She had long known that her partner had an oral fixation; his sunflower seed addiction had helped her realize that. Now she was realizing what kind of strength and dexterity his tongue had developed... and she was quickly overwhelmed by sensation. 

He kissed. He lapped. He stabbed at her with the stiffened tip of his tongue. He caressed her. His hands were on her body as well, but she could not pay much attention to that when his mouth music was so exquisite. Her body was trembling, her nerves singing along with the rhythm he was establishing. He ignored nothing, missed nothing, overlooked nothing. He hummed as he worked against her flesh, and the tiny vibration titillated her, raised her arousal another step, until her own voice emerged from her open, panting mouth, adding another living component to the song. 

"Ohmigod, ohmigodmulder, ohmigod, god, god... Oh, god, harder, please,  
rightthererightthererightthereohmigodohmigod OH MY **GOOOOOOOOOD!!!"**

Her body leapt against his face but he had felt her coming and held her down, using strength she had not suspected he had or would use against her. Pinned against the mattress, her hands locked on the headboard, her legs locked around his body, forced lower by his arms which were holding her body down, her orgasm thrummed through her body and her initial scream became a panting, rhythmic wail of shock and amazement as he did not let up on her, and her orgasm did not wane. She was helpless, trapped, forced to vibrate against the bonds of masculine flesh and bone that weighed her down and forced her to keep experiencing that exquisite contact. She drummed her heels against his back, hardly aware of it, her eyes squeezed shut and her mouth open as she gasped for air. 

Just when she was sure she could not stand another moment of this ecstasy, he lifted his mouth off her. Shocked, she opened her eyes in time to see him grab her and pull her to him. He buried himself inside her and she screamed as it all started again. 

"So hot... so tight..." he panted in her ear as his body surrounded hers. He was deep inside her, spreading her wide, and he was all around her, his body warm on top of her and his arms holding her tightly. 

He was not being rough but his strength was overwhelming as he stroked in and out. Her arms were locked around his ribs, her legs around his waist, fighting to match his rhythm. She clung to him with all the strength she had. The rhythm alone was intoxicating. The blinding fireworks of her first orgasm yielded to the slower, red-hot lava flow of this dance. 

"So good, so good," she chanted. "Don't stop... please don't stop..." 

"I'm not stopping," he promised, his breath hot against her skin. Instead, he shifted slightly and started moving more quickly, snapping his hips so that his body hammered at hers. 

She lost the power of speech altogether as her own body ratcheted up to another level of arousal, one that she had no recollection of every having experienced before. She knew there were sounds coming from her mouth but she could not hear them. She could hear his voice but if he was using words she could not grasp their meaning. All rational thought was swept away. 

Mulder yelled his triumph and filled her with hot lava. The wave of heat washed up her body and exploded in her head. The darkness that followed was a surprise. 

* * *

Groggy, she forced her eyes open. She felt, as Mulder had once expressed it, rode hard and put away wet. She ached all over. She was sweaty and sticky... 

She froze as the nature of the sweaty and sticky dawned on her. Then the arm that was draped over her waist tightened and pulled her back to snuggle against his body. 

"Mornin', Scully," her partner's voice murmured sleepily in her ear. 

She rolled toward him to lie on her back without pulling away from him. "Good morning." 

He leaned down and kissed her lightly. "I never know what to say in this situation. Not enough practice, I suspect." 

A tiny frown furrowed her brow. "What do you mean?" He actually looked a little embarrassed, which intrigued her. 

"I'm not exactly Don Juan," he answered defensively. 

"You mean you haven't been systematically working your way through the secretarial pool at the Hoover?" she inquired. 

"Me?" He was clearly startled. "No! You've got me confused with someone else!" 

She laughed softly. "There's a group of 'em who are constantly comparing notes on who they've had," she explained. "There are several claiming carnal knowledge of you. There are several photographs of you being circulated, usually with associated claims." 

He looked shocked... and then slightly sick. "What... what sort of photos?" he managed to ask. 

"Harry Summers showed me his favorite," she smiled faintly. "Do the words 'FBI natatorium' and 'red Speedo' ring any bells?" 

"Cameras aren't allowed down there!" 

"You're walking with Agent Krycek in the shot I saw," she went on. "In most of the copies you're alone; they've cropped Krycek out because he had separate trading value. Harry's got the hots for both of you." 

Mulder actually shuddered. "Oh, my God..." He flopped onto his back and stared at the ceiling. 

Scully slithered over and settled down on top of him. "Relax, Mulder. Harry's a gentleman; he wouldn't have shared with me if he hadn't seen how shocked I was when I heard two of the pool girls trading photos of you, Krycek and Moe Bocks, along with two DEA agents, four Secret Service guys and a Congressional aide." 

"Moe Bocks?!" he repeated incredulously. "He's a nice guy and a good agent, but..." 

"Apparently he's a body builder." 

"Damn." 

"So all these girls are lying when they discuss your prowess?" 

"I have never slept with any of them, I swear." 

She nodded thoughtfully. "And it's a little late for us to discuss pertinent sexual history, isn't it?" 

He came back to her, snuggled close. "I really don't want to discuss past sexual partners, but we really should... if this is more than a one-nighter..." 

She could hear the hope in his statement, and managed to keep from smiling at him only with difficulty. "I don't do one-night stands, Mulder. Ever. I have had four lovers before you: one in college, one in med school, and one in the Academy. Number one and number three are dead; number two is a cardiologist and lives in Baltimore. Number four lives in DC but he dumped me when I accepted the transfer from Quantico to full field agent status. He could not handle the idea of me traveling all over the country with another man, nor could he handle the idea of his girlfriend carrying a firearm." 

Mulder grinned and kissed her. "His loss. Okay, I lost my virginity in high school and my innocence at Oxford. That's two. When I came back to the US I was playing the field for a few months but I rarely got invited inside. I rarely got two dates from the same girl and that got old. I quit dating while I was profiling; I just didn't have the time or energy. Finally I got out and started working the X Files. They assigned me a female agent as a partner." 

"Was she nice?" she asked, fighting to sound casual through the flare of jealousy that had swept through her. 

"She was... accommodating," he said, clearly uncomfortable. "She wanted me... and I was focussed elsewhere. Looking back on it, she seduced me. She was very skilled; I never suspected it wasn't all my own idea until it all fell apart. I paid for the annulment when she took an assignment in Europe." 

Scully stared at him. "Annul... You married her?!" 

He nodded, shamefaced. "One of the worst decisions of my life, honestly. She was a manipulative bitch, Scully: she used sex to leverage everything. I'd always thought that Phoebe was bad news; Diana made Phoebe look like an amateur." 

She shuddered. Phoebe Green had unnerved her and his passive acceptance of Phoebe's plans had infuriated her, though she had carefully hidden that from him at the time. 

"You know, I nearly left you to Phoebe that night in the Venable Plaza," she remarked. 

He blanched. "You wouldn't've..." 

"Until I saw how you reacted, I had had every intention of excusing myself and leaving the two of you alone. It was pretty clear you'd gotten that room to co-habitate with her." 

"What changed your mind?" he inquired warily. 

"When you got up, you were wearing just your boxers and your robe, which was hanging open," she recalled. "I enjoyed the view, and you didn't seem to mind. But when Phoebe stuck her head into the room, you ostentatiously pulled the robe closed and tied the belt tightly. You didn't like her ogling you. And she was." 

He shivered at the memory. "I believe I thanked you for staying; let me say it again: thank you for not leaving me to her. I might not have survived that night if you had." 

It was her turn to kiss him. "Sometimes, Mulder, you are just too gentle a person," she admonished him. "I know you were raised not to hit girls, but there are viable reasons for making exceptions. She certainly qualifies." 

He shrugged a little. "That training runs too deep, Scully. I can't. I just can't." 

She nodded, understanding. "Good thing you've got me. If she comes back, or if someone like her surfaces in your life, you just stand aside. I'll handle the bitch for you." 

He stared at her. "Have I got you, Scully? Really? Finally?" 

She laughed. "After that performance last night? You may never sleep alone again as long as you live!" 

He shook her gently. "That's just sex and that's not what I mean!" 

She met his gaze unflinchingly, steadily. "I know that's not what you meant, Mulder. I love you, and I'm a possessive bitch. I never learned to share and I do NOT play well with others." 

He relaxed visibly. "Good. I don't want to share you, either. Does this mean you aren't going to get upset with me if we're drowning in testosterone in some distant police station and I start acting like the alpha wolf?" 

"No promises," she chuckled. "Just don't get arrested and we'll probably be okay." 

He moved smoothly to slide over onto her, settling into the cradle of her hips; she moaned as he thrust lazily between her legs, not trying to enter, yet, but testing her readiness. Her body flexed against his. 

"No arrests, gotcha." He bent to kiss her and she threw her arms around his neck, wrapped her legs around his ribs. "Is that a hint, honey?" 

"Sweetheart, if you need a hint at this point, there's no point," she chuckled. "Go for it." 

"Are you ready?" 

Her hands moved up until she could thread her hands through his hair. He thrust at her again and she moaned, then fisted her hands in his hair and dragged his mouth down to her own. She kissed him fiercely and rocked her body hard against his. He groaned as sensation overwhelmed him and his body responded. He slid one hand under her to tip her pelvis just so, and used the other to guide himself home. 

As he sank into her she moaned into his mouth through the kiss, and they both felt her body trembling. His movements began very slowly, taking his time, making her feel every millimeter of his plunge inside and then of his withdrawal. 

She let go of his hair and wrapped her arms around his body as far as she could reach. "Mulder, I don't want you anywhere near any more explosions except... ohh... this kind... ohh... mmm... in bed." 

He slowed, concentrating on her words. "Oh? I have this nifty fantasy involving you, your dining room table and a can of aerosol whipped cream." 

She giggled -- actually giggled! -- and he had to grit his teeth as her entire body participated. 

"You realize that you're implying that we're going to do this again and frequently? Or am I misinterpreting you...?" 

She blew out a breath in frustration at his insecurity. She slid her feet down his legs and used her toes to tickle the backs of his knees. When he tried to jerk away from her touch she relented and leaned up to kiss him on the end of his nose. 

"You may want to reconsider that; I am demanding and frequently insatiable, Mulder." 

He sighed happily and settled back against her, sliding a little farther inside as she moved to accommodate him. He resumed his lazy rhythm. 

She let her hands fall away and went limp. "Take me, Mulder. I'm all yours." 

He immediately began to move more quickly, more strongly. "There is a God, after all," he panted. 

"And He answers prayers!" she shouted.

#### If you enjoyed this story, please feed the author.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Title: **Prayers Answered**  
Author: Wylfcynne  
Details: 43k  ·  NC-17  ·  Standalone  ·  12/31/05  ·   Email/Website      
Gossamer Category(Keywords): Story   [Romance, Sex (PWP), Angst]     
Characters: Mulder, Scully     
Pairings: Mulder/Scully   
SPOILERS: 731   
SUMMARY: SUMMARY: This is my entry into the Fandomonium First-Time-Smutfic Challenge; my episode: 731. 


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